


Do Not Go Gently

by kattabaker (katttewks)



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-16
Updated: 2015-11-05
Packaged: 2018-04-21 01:06:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4809071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katttewks/pseuds/kattabaker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Canon sideways. And I miss Tommy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Felicity forgot when she had last slept, yesterday, a week ago? The days had run into each other in a stream of coffee, tears, phone calls and funerals. John wasn’t in any better shape, he was currently crashed on her sofa, mostly because she was afraid he wouldn’t make it home in the shape he was in but also, wordlessly, they clung to each other’s company. The world had ended and it was just the two of them now. 

Oliver had disappeared right after Tommy’s death. No good byes to any one, Thea had gotten the same text she and John had gotten, “Leaving town, will contact you later.” And then he had thrown away his phone. Felicity was so angry at him she couldn’t say his name, referring to him as ‘Mr. Queen’ but Diggle was more forgiving. But Diggle wasn’t the one making phone calls, arranging funerals and calling lawyers, was he? Felicity knew John was hurting too, Carly and AJ weren’t coming back. Carly hadn’t known a lot about what had happened, but she suspected Diggle was somehow involved with the fall of the Glades and there had been too many lies over the last year for Carly to trust John completely anymore. Oliver’s good bye bribe had contributed to Carly and AJ’s new home and John was feeling as adrift as Felicity was. They had driven together to Tommy’s funeral today and she had thrown dirt on the coffin of a man she barely knew. And tried not to mourn him for Oliver, because even though Oliver was an idiot for leaving, she couldn’t help feeling a sense of loss for a man she would never get to be friends with. Never compare “Oliver is and idiot” notes, never share a bottle of red wine and finally have someone who understands. She had tried not to look and Laurel, weeping softly in her father’s arms and had tried to focus on making the arrangements be seamless. 

Felicity had found out that Amazing Grace was Rebecca Merlyn’s favorite and had arranged a singer to croon it at the end of the service. Tommy had deserved that, buried next to his beloved mother with her favorite song in the air. Felicity couldn’t give him Oliver’s presence, but she could give him this. 

As Felicity curled under her blanket’s, finally drifting off to sleep, she thought she could hear the song, sung not in a woman’s soprano, but in a man’s soft tenor. Oddly, it almost sounded like Tommy. 

“Good night Tommy,” she whispered into the night. 

“Good night Felicity,” he seemed to whisper back. “Thank you for today. Sleep well.”


	2. Chapter 2

Felicity woke slowly, she and mornings were not the best of friends but this morning, for the first time in almost a week, she felt at peace. Smelling the bacon that Dig was cooking down the hall didn’t hurt. She wouldn’t tell her mother about breakfast, Donna Smoak was regularly observant, not only on high holy days like Felicity.   
Her Bat Mitzvah had been a tour of the lower circles of hell, but at least the local hospital had been ecstatic at the overhaul of their computer system. She still did updates when they ran into problems, it was her equivalent of a mindless task, something she could do in her sleep. Hospitals around the country came to study a system she designed when she was 12. In her spare time. Sitting in the back of a downtown casino while her mother worked double shifts to afford the party that would be briefly attended by parents who would sneer at her mother’s clothes and kids who were intimated by Felicity’s intelligence. Her Rabbi had been nice and had always had a bit of a crush on her mother but even then Felicity had known it wouldn’t go beyond a flirtation. Donna was unwilling to spend time on anything that wasn’t for Felicity and deep down, Felicity that her mother still carried a bit if a torch for her missing husband. Felicity knew that the sneering parents would never understand and little believe such behavior from her flashy mother.  
Why was Felicity thinking so much about her mother this morning? Probably because of the 27 frantic calls she had gotten last week. Even her mother, who never watched the news, a trait Felicity was beginning to value, had heard of the Undertaking. It had been all Felicity could do to keep Donna from renting a car and driving straight to Starling. Her mother still preferred driving, maybe because of all those road trips to science competitions that they couldn’t afford to fly to but that Felicity needed on her college apps. Her mother might make her crazy, but on mornings like this, when her mother was far away, Felicity could appreciate all she had done for her. Even if Donna had been pissed that Felicity had gone to MIT instead of Caltech. Both had offered a free ride, but Boston was not within her mother’s driving range and Felicity had wanted to put as much distance from Vegas as she could. Mostly so she didn’t have to listen to her mother complain about her clothes, “Humans don’t look good in black baby, people are like flowers, they need color.” Felicity wondered what her mother would think of Oliver and his obsession for all things green. It was odd that he hadn’t gotten a black costume, suit, uniform, whatever the guys called it. Dark green, while lovely, didn’t blend into the shadows as much as black.   
“Probably another island thing, that he’ll never explain and expect us to just accept. Ass!” she muttered to herself.  
That was weird, she thought she heard the sound of a chuckle, a man’s chuckle and close by. She looked around quickly, head on a swivel she reminded herself and relaxed when she saw nothing. Maybe it came from Diggle down the hall and the acoustics were doing strange things. Which reminded her, bacon. She looked down and considered her panda pajamas for a moment, but decided that John loved her enough to allow pandas to breakfast.  
“John,” she called as she headed down the hallway, “you were always my favorite.”  
John chuckled in response and oddly, it sounded different than earlier. Deeper, mare bass than tenor. She was definitely calling it, the acoustics in her apartment were officially weird.


End file.
